


Variety

by Scriptor_Bellum



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Outertale, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor_Bellum/pseuds/Scriptor_Bellum
Summary: A collection of Undertale/Reader ficlets! Feel free to request some if you'd like! <3 [NO EXPLICIT SMUT REQUESTS, PLEASE! I'll write suggestive stuff but not smut!]updated: Underswap!Napstaton x Reader





	1. Sans x insomniac!Reader

“Again, babe?”

You groan and look down at the skeleton in the bed, who’s currently rubbing at his eye sockets and sounding off a few quiet yawns. Despite the fact that he’s been asleep for about as long as you’ve been lying awake next to him, he looks exhausted. If you look as tired as he does, no wonder he’s worried. “In my defense,” you sighed, “I tried not to wake you up.”

Sans blinks slowly a few times before raising up his arm. The tip of his index finger bones displays itself. “Imagine this is my point.” His finger passes over the top of your head, accompanied by a sleepy ‘nyoooooom’ sound. “… Get it?”

“Message received, thanks.” You don’t mean to sound so snappy at him. You love him, and he doesn’t deserve to be your verbal punching bag. But the last time you slept a full night was three days ago; you just want to get some rest. Every time you lie down, you close your eyes… only to stay completely alert. It isn’t like you haven’t had this problem before. Most of the time you just have to ride it out and take an hour or two of sleep here and there until you can get through the night again.

Of course, Sans notices every time that it happens. It’s probably just as frustrating to him as it is to you, because after long days, sleeping is pretty much his specialty. Being unable to cuddle with you and drift off together must be wearing him down. Plus, you know that he absolutely beats himself up when there’s something wrong that he can’t do anything to help with.

Your huffy stewing is interrupted by another yawn, much louder this time. “Mmm… you wanna lie down and try again? You look… mmfff, hehehe… _bone tired._ ”

It’s probably a reflection of his own feelings, but you can’t deny that it’s true. You just want to close your eyes and sleep. Perhaps now that you can fall asleep _with_ Sans instead of next to him, that might work? While it’s not exactly fair to him, he seems more than willing to try anything that’ll help you. “… Okay,” you sigh, shifting yourself back into a reclining position. “At this point, I’ll try anything.”

“Yeah, come on over.” A small chuckle rattles his ribcage, and you can feel it as you settle in against him. “Besides, you’re cuddlin’ up next to _me._ Betcha feel sleepy already!”

You let out a low, nearly mirthless laugh before snuggling next to him. Your arms wrap around his waist, your head resting against his ribs. Although you might be worried about accidentally hurting him, you’ve laid like this many times before – it’s not forceful enough to put even a crack in his bones. He’s actually a lot tougher than he seems even though there are situations where you have to be careful. “Oh, yeah, sure do. Sandman’s calling me.”

“Mhm, you just let him in now.” His arms are shorter than yours, but regardless he manages to settle his phalanges against the small of your back. His teeth press on your cheek, and the coldness is comforting. The kisses you get from Sans aren’t typical; they are, however, one of the most wonderful things in the world. “You’re, heh, you’re my sleepy little babe, aren’tcha?”

A yawn of your own breaks through. It’s not that unusual, though… yawning is just the result of being tired, even if you can’t sleep. “That’s me.” One of your favorite positions to take is simply cuddled up against his chest, relaxing, whether you’re sleeping or not. So you take it now, moving your leg up to brush against his tibia – or fibula. You can’t tell them apart just by touch. Oh, well. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you can hear his soul beating loud and clear from where you are. That’s solace in and of itself, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his essence.

Within half an hour or so, you’ve dozed off comfortably next to Sans, holding each other close. (You wake up a couple hours later, but at least you got some sleep thanks to your boyfriend.)


	2. Underfell!Sans x kind/shy Reader (requested by Abomination)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Abomination!
> 
> Underfell!Sans is easily flustered when the reader treats him with unselfish, genuine kindness.
> 
> **Small warning** for blood and injury; tread carefully!

The fact that he’s completely baffled by you just makes him that much more endearing in your eyes.

He doesn’t seem to know what to do when you’re nice to him, nor does he really understand why you seem so taken with him. He’s a _bad guy,_ isn’t he? You shouldn’t be as drawn to him as you are.

It remains, though, that it’s just because he doesn’t understand anything except what he’s known so far. That’s been blood, pain, cruelty… all manner of terrible things. You name it, he’s been through it. The world he lives in is dark and hard with no room for mercy. So it’s no surprise that he starts to blush and stammer when you treat him pleasantly. (As far as you’re concerned, it’s absolutely adorable when he gets flustered like that.) You like him because you can tell there is good somewhere inside him, even if it’s buried and needs some coaxing out.

You always sit in the same place near his sentry station, bundled up in the coat you got from Toriel, waiting for Sans to come by. He brought you a book of puns the other day – “since you wanna sit around doin’ nothin’, you might as well learn how t’ do it right,” according to him. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want you thinking he’s being _nice_ to you even though that’s exactly what he’s doing. You wonder if you’re rubbing off on him? Either way, you’re content to just sit here, read, and wait for him.

Flowey doesn’t think it’s a good idea to be hanging around with anybody, but that’s just Flowey being Flowey. He’s a little skittish and doesn’t trust anyone but you, even after seeing how you made friends with Toriel. At least you know he’s just looking out for you, though. “Maybe he’s not gonna come today,” your little friend pipes up, looking relieved. “He’s pretty lazy… I bet he fell asleep or something.”

“Now, Flowey,” you scold gently. A page in the book is turned, and you grin at the puns on this page. “We’re being nice, aren’t we?”

“I dunno, are we? _Are we_ being nice to the scary skeleton who could dust me and kill you with a flick of the wrist?”

You chuckle, reaching to give his petals a few little pats. All he really needs is to be assured that everything’s fine. Or… “Aww, Flowey, you look upset!” Careful fingertips slip under his stem, pretending to start unwrapping him from your arm. “Don’t worry… I’ll give you some _vase!_ ”

The sound of your giggling drowns out your pal’s exasperated groan. “Geez, (Y/N), you’re hopeless…”

A loud groan cuts through both of your voices, and when you look up, you see Sans hunched against his sentry station. There’s a deep indentation in his right humerus, which he’s clutching at with his other hand. Between his phalanges you can see something that looks… vaguely like blood. How… how on Earth is he bleeding? He’s a _skeleton!_ “Oh, my – Sans!” You’re immediately shuffling to your feet, kicking up snow and startling Flowey. Your fingers twitch, not wanting to touch him for fear of making it worse, but wanting to help him any way you can. “What… what happened?”

“Nnnghh…” Both of his eye sockets were closed, and one opens up now to look at you. There’s also sweat beading across his forehead, which should be another impossibility for him. His eye is glowing bright crimson as he stares tiredly at you; finally his panting stops and he lets out one heave of breath. “… Pissed off the wrong guy, I guess…”

Your eyes widen, and you hurry behind his station to look for a first aid kit of some kind. Surely he’s not lazy enough to not be prepared for an emergency. At least, you hope so. “Your brother did this?” That’s awful to think about. They love each other, deep down, you know that. Even if their relationship is rocky, it shouldn’t result in them hurting each other like this!

“Nah. Nah, this wasn’t from Boss. He’d never…” Sans winces as he looks over at you, and you can feel his annoyed stare piercing you. “The hell’re you doin’ here, anyway? What is this… your second week hangin’ out at my station? Don’t you have better things t’ do, sweetheart?” The nickname is one you don’t really mind; he says it in this inconceivable way that’s both sarcastic and sincere.

“Well… not really.” You finally find a box, and open it to make sure that it’s a first aid kit. There are bandages and what look like antiseptic sprays inside, among a few other things, so you back out of the station with it clutched to your chest. “Would you, um… rather I leave?” That thought hasn’t actually crossed your mind before now. Even though he acts all bristly and irritated by you, you always thought he secretly didn’t mind your company.

The glow in his eye softens, and a loud _THUNK_ meets your ears as he slumps down against the front of his station. “Shit, could you _give me_ any sadder eyes? My heart ain’t made of fuckin’ stone, you know.”

You suppose that’s as much of an invitation to stay as he can bring himself to give you. Opening up the kit again, you slide yourself down into the snow next to him. He’s shivering, despite having yanked the arm of his jacket back up… probably in an effort to hide his injury. When you reach your hand toward him, you notice him flinch, and you pull back a bit. “Oh, Sans… d-do you mind if I… take a look at that?”

“Mmf…” A sigh blows from between his teeth, and he lets go of his jacket sleeve. “Yeah, yeah. Go nuts.”

A nervous smile is given to him before you move the sleeve away a little more. The wound doesn’t seem too deep, although it definitely looks like it hurts. “Is it okay if I clean this and bandage it up for you? Less chance of it getting infected.”

He lets his head hang with a tired nod. Your heart aches for him a little, because he just looks so exhausted and done with the world. “Whatever floats your boat.”

The two of you are fairly quiet as you clean the cut and apply antiseptic to it. Even Flowey doesn’t really butt in. All that leaves Sans’ mouth is the sound of small grunts of pain as you work. It’s undeniable that he’s suffering, but he’s still playing the tough guy and, to boot, he’s still refusing to tell you who did this or what exactly happened. Finally, as you start to wrap bandages around it, you think maybe you should break this awkward silence. “So, um,” you speak up after clearing your throat, “I-I guess you could say… whoever did this, um… really… _cut you to the bone._ ”

To your surprise, that elicits a small snort of laughter from the skeleton. He shakes his head for a few seconds and lets out a sigh. “Yeah. Wasn’t very _humerus_ of ‘em, if you ask me.”

You keep winding the bandages over his wound as you give a little giggle. “No, it wasn’t! Don’t worry, though – it should be feeling better by to _marrow._ ”

“Ah, geez. You’re too good for me, sweetheart.” The smile he gives you is similar to his normal smirk, but far more good-natured this time. “You’re ticklin’ my _funny bone._ ”

As soon as you finish up with the bandage, you let out a few loud peals of laughter that are uncharacteristic for you. Almost immediately after, you cover your mouth, feeling your face start to heat up. Oh, wow! That was… that was really noisy. “Pff… I-I think you win that round.” You make no move to get up, instead inspecting your work and lightly running your fingers over it. “Does that feel okay? Not too tight?”

“Yeah… it’s fine.” His gaze shifts away from yours, and he looks down at the snow as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “… Hey, uh.” If you’re not mistaken, there’s a light bloom of blue on his cheekbones. Is he… blushing? It looks as if he’s trying to force a word out that he really means, and yet it’s not coming naturally. “… Thanks. Not many people would… take care of me like that. I don’t get why you did, but… thanks.”

For a few seconds, you wonder whether or not Papyrus would care for Sans like you just did. Does he even have any other friends down here? It seems to you like he’s almost totally on his own. You’ve only seen his brother once, and even then it was a peek from behind the sentry station while you were hiding from him. Sans should have _somebody_ who cares about him; even if he’s rough around the edges, he doesn’t deserve to be alone all the time. “Well… I did it because I care about you. And… you’re welcome.”

You contemplate reaching for his hand, but as soon as you go to move your fingers, he’s on his feet. “I should prob’ly get back to business now…” Although he obviously doesn’t want to, he’s already pulling his jacket up to conceal the bandages on his arm. “You… want somethin’ from Grillby’s when I come back? I saw you finished that pie and stuff you had, so I was thinkin’… maybe you were gettin’ hungry.”

“Oh…” That’s right. The only real food you’ve had so far is the slice of pie that Toriel sent with you, along with some pieces of candy and a couple of snacks from inside Sans’ sentry station. While you’re not really starving, it would be nice to have something different and hopefully filling. There’s one problem with the offer, though. “I don’t really have much gold to pay you back with. I think I’ve got, maybe, ten…”

“Nah, don’t… I mean, just keep your gold.” His hood is quickly pulled up over his skull, and it looks like it’s an effort to hide the fact that his blush just got darker. “This is just – I’m payin’ you back for takin’ care of me, okay? You want somethin’ or not?”

That surprises you a little. He thinks he has to pay you back for being nice to him? Helping patch him up was something any decent person ought to do. Of course, you have to remind yourself, the Underground isn’t really filled with decent people. If he wants something, chances are that down here he has to offer the other person a favor in return. “W… Well, you don’t owe me or anything, Sans. I did it because I wanted to. Um… if you’re still offering, though… that sounds good.”

“Burger and fries okay?” The look on his face suggests that his arm still hurts; he’s turned around anyway.

You nod, then realize that he can’t really see you. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks.”

As soon as you blink, he’s gone. It’s strange, though. You were cold even with your coat on, but now a warm feeling has spread across your skin and left you comfortable.

“See, Flowey?” you murmur, leaning back and cuddling up with your friend. “I’m getting through to him.”


	3. Asgore x Reader (post-True Pacifist ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and Asgore are both made easily nervous by new things. Especially when those new things happen to be attractive people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see all the requests in the comments, and I've got them on a list to work on!! Thanks for sending me some, guys. :D This is just an idea of my own that I've had written for a few days and figured I'd post this so you have something while I work on some of the requests. <3

You’ve watched the man working in his yard through your living room blinds for nearly three months, and you don’t even know his name.

Well, maybe that’s a little unfair. Even though he seems like a very gentle person, you’re still not quite used to the presence of monsters yet. Or, at least, you weren’t until you started watching this one. Although he wears a pretty casual outfit (a pink button-up with yellow flowers on it and a pair of jeans), there’s something regal about him that you just can’t put your finger on. His hair and beard are blonde, not very long… always look soft, though. His eyes are blue, the kind of light, watery, baby blue that makes it look almost like he’s always about to cry. Judging from his quiet, reserved nature, you can’t help but guess that an observation like that isn’t completely inaccurate. Despite his normal-looking appearance – for a monster, anyway – there just seems to be a subtle elegance to everything he does. The way he carries himself is just so… _refined._

You don’t even think he knows that you’re watching him. It looks like he mostly keeps to himself, and there have only been a few visitors in the time he’s been here. In fact, you’re pretty sure that he doesn’t really interact with any of his other neighbors.

That’s going to change today! … As soon as you find where you put your courage. What excuse can you give? He’s a fairly attractive man; you’ve been putting this off for the sole reason that you don’t want to screw it up if you get flustered by his good looks.

Today is the day, though. Without thinking too hard about it, without giving yourself a _chance_ to chicken out, you open up your door and walk out onto your lawn.

He doesn’t notice you at first. He seems to be busy putting some new plants in the ground, right next to a patch of golden flowers. A faint tune is hummed out from his throat, in a low tone. You can’t tell if that’s the pitch of his voice, or if he’s just trying to be quiet out of respect for anyone who happens to be outside. You watch him for a moment, since his back is to you (is that a _fluffy little tail waving along to his humming?_ Oh, great, now he’s a hundred times cuter), then you stroll down the path and pretend to check your mail. Nothing new, which isn’t exactly a surprise. You hum under your breath as you head back toward your house, your heart beating in your throat. How badly could you possibly mess this up? It’s not like as soon as he turns around you’re going to gasp breathlessly about how gorgeous he is.

Halfway back to your door, you slowly drift toward the short whitewashed fence that separates your yards. Your hands are shaking. This is probably one of the bravest things you’ve ever done – talking to someone you think is attractive and nice without getting completely worked up. “Ah – um – h-hey! Good m – morning!”

His humming stops abruptly, twisting the top half of his body back so he can look at you. Oh. Would you look at those eyes? Those are the sweetest eyes you’ve ever seen, full of compassion and kindness. When he sees you, a gentle smile accompanying an almost relieved look passes over his face. “Oh! Howdy!” You think maybe that’s the end of it and you failed to capture his attention, but a couple seconds later he goes to push himself up. As much as you want to get to know him better, you hope you didn’t interrupt him. He walks over to the fence, dusting his paws together in a clear attempt to brush some of the dirt off of them. The closer he gets, the more you realize that he is so much bigger than you in every sense of the word. He’s over a foot taller than you, with a stocky build that, fortunately, makes him look more rounded and approachable than intimidating. While his voice is every bit as deep and rich as you’d expect, he’s very soft-spoken. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Ah… I…” Boy, you didn’t think this through very well, did you? You’re struck speechless, on the spot, by his good looks, his pleasant demeanor, and the absolutely adorable way he speaks. You blink a few times, then clear your throat. “Ahem, um… y-yeah! It’s so sunny today… can – can you believe just yesterday it was pouring for almost two hours?” Well, at least that’s not a terrible start. Small talk is probably best for now so that you have less chance of tripping over your words.

He chuckles, giving a passing glance back toward his garden. “At least the rain is good for making things grow! I didn’t even have to water my flowers yesterday, thanks to the rain.”

Thankfully, his easygoing nature is keeping you pretty calm. “Oh! Speaking of… your garden is just lovely. You haven’t been here very long, and already your yard looks better than mine!”

The laugh he gives you next is different from that little one he gave about the rain. This laugh is big and booming, and it seems to fit him better. It just sounds so… _happy._ It’s like music, and you can’t help but laugh along as he answers. “Well, thank you! There’s nothing wrong with your yard, though! I just happen to be a bit of a… gardening enthusiast.”

“It shows how much you love it.” This is nice, right? It’s actually not as hard to relax around him as you thought it might be. Despite his imposing size and stature, he’s such a sweetheart. “I, um, I just kind of… wanted to, you know, come over and introduce myself. It just hit me earlier that, ah, well… we’ve been living next to each other for a few months, and I never actually came over to say hello! So, uh… hello!” Okay, you have to cringe at _yourself_ for that. Regardless, you press on, reaching your hand over the fence for him to shake if he’d like. “My name’s (Y/N) (L/N)! It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh – oh, golly, well, it’s nice to meet you, too! That’s so nice of you; no one else has really introduced themselves, either, so it’s not like you’re alone.” His paw grips around your fingers, giving your hand a hearty but careful shake. “My name is Asgore Dreemurr.”

A wide smile forms on your face, a direct result of the warm feeling that spreads through you when he shakes your hand. His fur is so much softer than you thought it would be… which was pretty soft to begin with, honestly. It feels great against your skin, and you do your best to return the gesture. “It’ll be nice to know at least _one_ of my neighbors. Sorry to say, I’ve just been kind of nervous because, well… I haven’t quite been used to the whole, um, monster thing yet. B-But it’s nothing bad about any of you or anything! It’s just… you know, takes time to get used to.” You feel like saying that might have been more information than you should have divulged. After all, this is getting a bit personal with someone you just met, isn’t it? “So… it’ll just be really great to… actually get to know someone I live next to.”

Asgore nods politely, not seeming at all bothered by your anxiety regarding the situation. That’s a good sign; it’s almost like he understands why you were nervous, even with the terrible way you expressed your feelings. Gosh, could he get any better? “Oh, don’t worry. That’s better than some of the things I’ve seen! And, heh, I _would_ like to thank you… I don’t really know anyone around here. It makes me feel a little more at ease to know that there’s one person who doesn’t mind me being here!”

“Oh, my God, of course not! I mean… you… you deserve to be here if this is where you want to live, you know?” The smile on your face only grows, although you can feel the heat rush to your face. Have people really been mean to him over just living here…? Like… over just existing and daring to be in the same general area as they are? “Some humans are just… you know.”

His head shakes, a smile of his own still there. “Believe me, it is not just humans who are… you know.”

Regardless of whether or not he’s just teasing you, a snort is your first reply to that. Well, well, well! Nobody warned you about his sense of humor. “Um… a-anyway, Mr. Dreemurr, it really was nice to meet you. But! You probably, uh, wanna get back to gardening, so I’m just gonna head back in, I guess…”

“O-Oh, no, wait–!” Even though he’s let your hand slip from his grasp, clearly his voice doesn’t agree with just letting you walk off. “I mean, well… actually, I… I was just about to take a short break. Too much sun is… bad for the skin, isn’t it?” If you weren’t a wishful thinker, you’d swear you saw the smallest hint of _pink_ beneath the fur on his cheeks. Surely he couldn’t be blushing, could he? “… So, I – I suppose what I’m asking is… ah… would you like to come over and… have a cup of tea with me?”

While the request startles you a bit, you can’t say it’s unwelcome. Getting to know someone so handsome and charming over tea? It actually sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon. In any case, it certainly beats the hours of lazing around watching TV or reading that you had planned for today. Your smile falls for half a second due to your surprise, then comes back bigger than ever. “That sounds wonderful! Oh, oh – tell you what, I’ve got a couple leftover cupcakes from a party I made them for yesterday. How about I bring them over too? That way we can have tea _and_ a little snack!”

That idea seems to absolutely delight him. In fact, your response seems to be a better one than he expected. “O-Oh, that would be lovely! I’ll head inside and put the kettle on… the door’s unlocked, so just come on in whenever you’re ready, alright?”

“Yeah, it’s a date!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, but you’re not sure that either of you care.


	4. Sans x gullible Reader (requested by . )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only Sans and the reader were _always_ this honest with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by . !

You’ve endured more pranks from Sans than you really care to count… not that you could count that high, anyway. He’s gotten you with _everything._ ‘Made you look’, paint on kaleidoscopes and telescopes, salt switched with sugar, caps loosened on condiments, hair dye in your shampoo, a bucket of water on top of a door, drawers and cabinets glued shut, whoopee cushions _every blessed time you sit down._ There’s probably not a single trick in the book that he hasn’t managed to use on you. Embarrassingly enough, you fall for it every single time. Papyrus has tried to prank-proof your person, but even that doesn’t seem to dissuade Sans; he always finds a way around it.

Today… nothing. Usually there’s at least one practical joke waiting for you in the morning, and yet you woke up to complete and utter peace. Your morning routine passed without incident – Sans doesn’t even seem to be around at the moment. Papyrus isn’t around, either, so you can’t ask him where his brother is or what he might be up to.

As soon as you eat a small breakfast, you go to sit down on the couch very carefully. To your surprise, however, there’s no whoopee cushion. You actually _look_ for one and end up finding nothing. So you sink down into the sofa, reaching for the remote to click on the TV. It’s eerily silent without either of the brothers here. “Hm,” you mutter as you reach for one of Sans’ blankets that’s been left on the couch. “Maybe one of Mettaton’s shows is on…”

“One of Mettaton’s shows is _always_ on.”

You give a little squeal as you look beside you to find… Sans? What… what is he doing here? … How did he get in here without you noticing? You know he can teleport and all, but usually you can at least hear a little sound from that. “Sans, you _bonehead!_ ” you hiss, smacking him with a pillow. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

All he does in response is keep grinning and scoot a bit closer to you. “Aw, geez, I’m sorry! Did I… _rattle ya?_ ” The pun wouldn’t be a pun if it wasn’t accompanied, of course, by Sans clanking his bones at you. “I didn’t mean t’ send _chills up your spine!_ ”

“UGH, Sans!” you huff and cross your arms, turning away from him. Not today! Whatever prank he’s got planned, it’s not going to get the best of you this time. So he can just forget about it.

The sound of his chuckling surrounds you, and suddenly he’s leaned against your shoulder. His phalanges rest over your hand, his skull on your arm. “Aw, c’mon, now. You’re not even gonna look at me? I know those weren’t my best work, but that’s only ‘cause I’m, heh… kind of an _airhead,_ if you know what I mean!”

If only to give him a glare, you turn to look at him. Despite him being a good bit shorter than you, he’s actually standing up on the sofa to be level with your cheek. What on Earth is he doing? “Wha… Sans, uh, where’s Papyrus?”

“He’s out – you know, doin’ stuff. Trainin’ and all that.” His phalanges curl around your fingers; the smile that’s almost always on his face seems more sincere at the moment. “He, uh… wanted t’ give us some privacy.”

“Privacy? Um… why would we need privacy? All we’re gonna do is, like… watch TV, right?” You’re not sure where this is headed, and you find yourself becoming not-so-oddly suspicious of him.

There’s a sound that leaves him that sounds as if he’s clearing his throat. That should be impossible, although this _is_ Sans you’re talking about. Sans is known for doing the impossible, so you’re not exactly surprised. “Well, ah. Funny you should ask.” Before you know it, he’s leaned over, his teeth pressing to your cheek in some strange mimicry of… a kiss? “I was gonna do that. And I was gonna ask you if, uh, you know… if maybe we could… go t’ Grillby’s together tonight. It’s kinda small, but it’s cozy, which–”

“What the hell, Sans?” In spite of your desire to act like all his fooling around doesn’t bother you, tears have formed in your eyes. You’ve always thought Sans was handsome and charming, even with the way he acts like a six-year-old who’s just discovered fart noises for the first time. God, you should have known that he knew all this time. It’s a prank. It’s just one of his stupid tricks, as usual, except this one is _cruel._ “What the hell is wrong with you?”

A strangled noise leaves his throat, and his eye sockets widen. His eyes are burning with a soft pink glow, so much different than the blue that’s typically there. “I… what? I’m – I’m just tryin’ t’ ask you out here! Why are you crying? Geez, is… is the thought of goin’ on a date with me really _that_ bad?”

You actually _push_ him away, not hard enough to hurt him, just hard enough to get him away from you. Why is he doing this? It feels like your soul’s been turned blue, completely dragging you down and making it hard to breathe. “Are you making fun of me or something?! What did I ever do to you?!”

“What the _hell,_ (Y/N)?!” The shove doesn’t seem to have affected him too much, although from what you can see, it almost looks like there’s fluid pooling in his eye sockets. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about! Look, you coulda just said no instead of whatever this is! What, are you givin’ me a taste of my own medicine? ‘Cause it’s not funny!”

“No shit it’s not funny!” You bury your face in your hands, barely able to suck in a gasp of breath. “You’re making fun of the fact that I like you! That’s not funny, Sans! That’s _mean!_ ”

It looks like he’s just been struck by lightning. His eye sockets are wide open, tears dripping down his cheekbones. “Wh… (Y/N), I… holy shit. I swear, I didn’t even know you liked me! I’d… I’d never do somethin’ like…” He relaxes against the couch, sliding a hand over his face. “I know I play jokes on you a lot, but… I’d… never mess with your feelings like that. That’s _not_ funny. I… I really did wanna ask you out.” It’s pretty clear that he’s kind of beating himself up over it now, actually. “I… I get it, though. All those stupid pranks… now this… oh. Oh, damn. No wonder you thought I was…”

Honestly, coming from him, it’s kind of hard to believe. But there’s no way to fake the sincerity that you hear in his voice. You feel just as bad when you look up, and after a moment you reach over to carefully brush his tears away. “I’m… I’m sorry, Sans, I just…” There’s nothing either of you can _really_ say to save the moment, unfortunately. You both kind of screwed up enough that it’s been totally killed. Overkilled, even.

The two of you sit there in silence for a few minutes, wiping at each other’s tears until the crying stops. It doesn’t take too long. At last, you decide to speak up. “So, Sans, um… about Grillby’s…”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” His eye sockets are half-lidded, and he refuses to meet your gaze. “You can just… forget the last ten minutes ever happened, y’know?”

“No, no. I, um…” You move your hands, lacing your fingers around his phalanges. He’s cold, but you like it. “… Is the offer still on the table?”

The expression he gives you looks like someone who’s lived their life in darkness seeing the sun for the first time. That smile of his seems so genuine, you think it might crack his jaw in half. “Is… is tonight at eight… okay?”

You think maybe you should return the kiss he gave you earlier, so you lean over and gently press your lips to the top of his skull. “Perfect.”


	5. Underswap!Sans x Reader (implied poly with Underswap!Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and the reader are content to head home after cooking class, even if Papyrus is going to be a lazybones when they get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by iou!

Sans is always faster than you at packing up his station, but it’s notable that, without fail, he stays until you’re too. You move slowly, making sure that all your tools are in their proper place and everything is closed up well before you leave for the day. On the other hand, Sans _never_ stops moving. He’s _go, go, go!_ all the time. You suppose that in that way, you’re kind of the perfect match for him as well as his brother. Middle ground – that’s you in every way. Slow and laidback enough for Papyrus, but energetic and bouncy enough for Sans. It’s a nice little balance the three of you have, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“You’re coming over tonight, aren’t you??” Sans speaks up as you finish stacking your pans inside the cabinet. “Papy wanted to have a movie marathon! I said we could make snacks so we have something to do while we watch. I was thinking we could try, maybe, some bruschetta and crudités… you know, simple stuff we can make a lot of quickly!”

A smile forms on your face as you lock up your cabinet, leaning on the counter. God, Sans is so precious! The way that his voice seems to burst with sparkles and excitement… you could listen to him talking about anything for hours. “Sounds good… and at least Pap might eat the bruschetta. Did you know I caught him drinking marinara right from the jar _again?_ The least he could do is put it in a glass to drink, geez.”

The pout that forms on his face is as amusing as it is adorable. “Oh, my God, are you serious?! We should just stop buying it, you know! We’re enabling him by keeping it in the house.” It’s pretty clear that he’s not really upset, though. He loves his brother just as much as you do, albeit in a different sense. “Do you think I’ll be able to get him to try tacos again? He needs more variety!!”

“Maybe if you put tomatoes on them,” you snicker, leaning over to kiss his cheekbone. “He’ll be fine, Sansy, don’t worry. You sure you don’t wanna stop by Muffet’s on the way home? She’s supposed to have some new drink that’s really good.”

His cheeks glow bright blue for a few seconds after the kiss; that’s how he responds pretty much every time. A kiss from you manages to completely daze him, if only for a short time. Eventually he does regain his composure, though. “N-No, no, thank you! _Ick._ The last time I went there, a spider ended up in my drink!”

A snort escapes you as you straighten up and reach for his hand. “Spiders end up in _all_ the drinks. That’s her shtick. It’s not a good one, I think, but… I dunno. People seem to like it there. Cozy atmosphere, you know?”

“Mm…” He’s happy to lean against you as the two of you head out. It’s been a long day, and a little closeness from each other is really all you need. “Yes, well, things are far more cozy at home! Besides, I’d vastly prefer the food we make ourselves to the usual… _junk…_ that Muffet tends to serve.”

“Well, you’ve got me there!” Honestly, you agree. While none of you would say no to the occasional spider donut, the only one who eats them on an almost daily basis is Papyrus. (Yes, you’ve both tried telling him so many are bad for him, not to mention that his tab’s been running for years. No, he doesn’t listen to either of you, even if he might stop eating donuts for the day after you scold him.) “It’ll just be a nice night in. Very lively, very romantic~”

The last part of your sentence doesn’t escape his attention, and his entire face flushes turquoise. It’s so cute that you’re considering just picking him up in a hug and swinging him around right there. “O-Oh, romantic? Hah, wowie… well! In that case, I’ll make sure to only select the most amorous movies in our entire collection!!”

You chuckle, running your thumb over the back of his metacarpals. You’re so lucky to have both of them in your life. And to think you never would have met if this overzealous little skeleton wasn’t assigned to be your partner for culinary class! “Hey, Sans…”

“Yes?”

“Isn’t Pap just gonna fall asleep halfway through the first movie?” One eyebrow is raised, but your lips are set in a smirk. That would be just like Papyrus, and strangely enough you can’t find it in you to complain about it. “It’s really just gonna be us for an actual marathon.”

It seems to dawn on Sans slowly – once it does, though, his face is back to glowing blue. “T… that _lazybones!!!_ ”

… Nope. You wouldn’t trade either of them for anything.


	6. Sans x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is a little shit, but that's nothing you didn't already know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by letsallbecalmchaps!
> 
> (Sorry this one is a little short but it seemed like the perfect place to end it. Sometimes short and sweet is the best! XD)

“Does this even count as the human form? You’re not human.”

Your pencil moves swiftly over the paper as you do your best to sketch an accurate representation of what you see before you. What’s before you, apparently, is a short skeleton in all his naked glory. He’s literally nothing but bones, and you don’t know what you expected to see differently. You’ve seen skeletons before. Just not… magic, sentient skeletons who happen to be your boyfriend. Or who happen to be actually posing for you.

What possessed him to do this, anyway? Is he doing it out of goodness of his heart? To help you learn your craft? For some reason, you doubt either of those explanations. If you know Sans, it’s because he wanted to get a laugh at your expense. Because whatever you expected to see – glowing ‘anatomy’, or at least _something_ that hearkens to human physique – isn’t there. All that’s shown off when he’s undressed are bones. Chalk-white, solid bones. Your reaction to it, initially, was probably pretty amusing. (Of course, this is _Sans._ He thinks everything’s funny. Not that you’d be able to tell with that permanent smile he’s got going on.)

“Psh, are you kiddin’ me?” He’s infuriating. He manages to hold position even when he’s talking. Maybe it has something to do with having no lungs, or being some kind of balancing expert. “Of course it counts. Look at me! This is what they teach you when you’re learnin’ how t’ draw realistically. This is what’s inside a human, y’know!”

If you didn’t know better, you’d swear your face was heating up. … Oh, no, wait, that’s exactly what it’s doing. He didn’t have to phrase it like that! “Uh-huh. But what’s actually inside a human is also… you know… muscles… organs… et cetera.”

A snort is the response you get from him at first. “Lucky I don’t have any’a that shit. Well, I mean… unless you wanted me to.”

You stop short, your pencil pausing in its strokes. What…? “Why, Sans,” your voice is full of dry wit, “be careful about what you say. Otherwise, I might think you’re flirting with me.”

“Oh?” One of his browbones arches up, and that grin on his face turns smug. “You mean you can’t tell for sure? Geez! And I thought all this would have been a dead giveaway.”

Now your face is completely burning; your pencil just drops to the floor. What. _What?_

“Sans. Is this seriously all just your elaborate attempt at flirting with me?”

The look on his face tells you everything you need to know.


	7. Outertale!Mettaton x Reader (requested by iou)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Mettaton orbit around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by iou!

Even when he’s not paying attention to you, your eyes can’t look away from him.

For each moment you stare, something else beautiful about Mettaton comes into focus. His hair, black as night and waving around his face. His eyes, glowing fuchsia and just as bright as anything in the sky. His skin, smooth and metallic and warm beneath your fingertips. The heart inside him – _his soul_ – is a glittering mass of golden sparkles, blinking at you from behind the glass pane as if it can sense that you’re near. There is so much about him that you love. You’re not sure if you could list everything even if you were asked to.

“Darling?” That voice of his drips over you like honey, bringing you out of your reverie. When you turn to look at him, there’s a smile on his face that suggests he’s perfectly aware that you weren’t listening. Although he doesn’t look particularly bothered by it. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry,” you murmur, slipping your arm around his waist. Your fingernails tap lightly against the glass over his soul as a smile spreads across your face. You lean your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes gaze out into the cosmos. Swirling balls of white-hot gas. Inky ripples that stretch across space and time. Longing twinkles of far-off planets. You can even see the Earth from here. “I was just… so busy looking at you. You’re so beautiful.”

He chuckles warmly and you feel the echo against your cheek. Yes, that’s always the correct answer; stroking his ego. Of course, perhaps it’s not so much empty flattery when you actually mean it. Regardless, his hand reaches up so that his fingers can caress freely over your hair. The way he looks at you is the same way that you look at him. It makes your heart skip a beat when you think that he loves you as much as you love him. “So are you.”

The two of you share a brief but passionate kiss, and you feel soul-sparks strike against the glass toward your fingers. When you part, you immediately press yourself against his chest. “What were you saying, love?”

“Oh, the usual prattle,” he teases, continuing to let his hands roam all over you. Whatever he was saying, it’s clear that now he’s much more interested in you. It happens every time you get distant like that – he loves talking about himself, but he also easily worries about you. “You see the Earth, my darling? Someday…” A tender peck is pressed to your forehead. The look in his eyes as he lays them on you reflects all the universe, mixing with his love for you and a hope burning inside him that you’ve seen countless times before.

His arms sweep you up, pulling you into a spontaneous dance. The music from the resort plays behind you. For a moment, it almost feels like nothing is wrong. Things just feel… right. He holds you close against him, swaying you to the melody and spinning you past the window. “Someday, we’ll be down there.” Another round of kisses are lavished against your neck, each one lingering for longer than the last. His lips are hot and feel like an oil slick and you love it. “Someday, I’m going to take you down there. We’ll be together! We’ll live happily! We’ll be _stars,_ darling!”

The music swells, and he dips you low to the floor. Your arms circle around his neck out of reflex. A smile blooms onto your face, and your brush your hand over his cheek, making him shudder with delight.

“We don’t need to go down there for that,” you whisper against his lips. “You’ve always been _my_ star.”


	8. Grillby x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things 'heat up' a little between you and Grillby before you head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I have no excuse except that damn. I love Grillby. And winter stuff!!
> 
> Feel free to request some stuff if you'd like~ <3

“Dear, is all this really necessary?”

Your eyes shift up to your boyfriend’s face as you finish zipping up the coat that you insist he wears while you walk home. You’ve also helped him into a pair of heavy boots, snow pants, and some thick gloves. The last of your protective equipment for him is a soft scarf and a hat that’s probably a bit too big. But can he really blame you? He’s made of _fire!_ Any snow outside might put his flames out; not to mention that the chilly temperatures could result in him getting sick more easily than anyone else. “Of course it’s necessary, Grillby!”

As you reach to wrap the scarf around him, his hand gently catches your wrist. You can feel the warmth of his fingers even through the glove. A pout is given up at him, and he ignores it in favor of pulling you close. “You don’t have to worry.” His voice is quiet and strained, a whisper of fire trying to grasp itself at wet wood. That only serves to make you more concerned. He’s just getting over a sore throat caused by the cold weather, and he doesn’t think you ought to be frazzled about keeping him warm? Makes about as much sense as a screen door on a submarine. “The walk is short… I promise you I’m not going to fizzle out.”

His arms are snug around you, and for a moment it makes you feel completely safe. For that one moment you don’t fret about anything. Heat from beneath his sleeves licks against your skin and vibrates around your soul until your legs feel like jelly. You could fall asleep right here…

After a few more seconds, your eyes snap open. No! No, wait, no. You can’t fall asleep now! The two of you have to walk home, and your stubborn determination won’t let him carry you home in the middle of winter. “Grillby!” you scold with a hiss. Doesn’t he know better by now?

“What?” A smirk is playing on his face, you’re sure of it, if the shine off his glasses is any indication. For that reason, the feigned innocence in his voice doesn’t fool you for a second.

“Don’t… don’t try to put me to sleep.” It’s quite honestly a valid concern. His warmth and embrace has lulled you to sleep before, and it nearly did so again just now. He knows very well that power he has over you. But it’s not going to happen tonight! “It’s cold out there, hon.” Your own lukewarm hands lift up to press against the sides of his cheeks, feeling the hot sparks jump to your hands. He never scorches your skin or burns you… he’s always the perfect temperature. “I have to be awake in case anything happens! You _know_ we have to be careful when it’s snowing or raining.”

The sigh he gives you sounds like the crackle of flame spreading its reach over a dry twig. It’s the noise of a man who has seen reason, but isn’t happy about it. “… You can put the scarf on me, and that’s _it._ ”

“Thank you, baby.” You smile, tenderly winding the plush fabric around his neck and over the lower half of his face. It’ll do better than nothing, at least. With that, your tiptoes push up against the floor so you can press a kiss to his cheek. The action makes your lips tingle with his heat; you give a sigh of your own. “You know I’m just worried about you. I love you.”

Indigo flushes over his face, and you _feel_ him soften. The flames that comprise his hair shrink down. His arms are suddenly around you again, holding you closer than you can remember him ever holding you before. Although it may be your imagination, you think you feel his chest shudder against yours. His lips have taken blazing shape against your forehead – he is holding you so tightly that it feels like he never wants to let go. You feel his fingers bunch up a part of your coat in the back. Then it happens. His soul wraps itself around yours, twisting against you and making you gasp in surprise. Even that doesn’t seem to make Grillby pause. “… I love you, too.”

_Oh._

You relax, and are quick to return the force with which he’s embracing you. Has anyone ever said that to him before? Surely you’ve said it before now! His tone is enough to make you choke on the tears that are forming in your eyes. They’re happy tears, though. You love him so much that you’re willing to spend time and effort covering him up so that he’s safe from the snow that’s falling outside the window. It makes you wonder if anyone has ever done this for him. Does it really surprise him to have a lover take care of him like this?

His lips blister at the edge of your forehead, and after a moment, he lets go of the kiss so he can replace his lips with his own forehead. It’s such a wonderful sensation; it feels like you’ve just drunk an entire mug of tea in one go and the warmth is filling you up from the inside.

You soak it in for a few seconds, then let out a small giggle. “We… we should probably go home, babe,” you murmur with a grin, tilting your head up at him. “It’ll be nice to cuddle up under a blanket, huh?”

“Oh…” His flames flare up briefly, and once again blue blossoms on his face for half a second. He steps away, but keeps his hands in yours. There’s a smile; you know it. “Right.”

You just can’t help yourself. He’s so _adorable._


	9. Underfell!Undyne x Reader x Underfell!Alphys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some quality time with the two most important and terrifying ladies in your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by Glavenus!

To be frank, you’re never really sure which one of them you should be more scared of.

… Probably Alphys.

They’re both strong in their own right, of course. Undyne could break you just as easily as she could snap a toothpick… but she’s not actually violent toward you unless you give her a reason to be. Alphys, though? Alphys is… harder to read. The feeling exists in the back of your mind that, if she decided it would be interesting, she’d more than happily experiment on you. Not to mention, the way she treats poor Mettaton is downright nasty. Flowey’s warned you about both of them; stubbornly, and maybe because you were too dumbly in love, you didn’t listen to him.

Besides, Undyne seems like she’d rather kill you than let you go now that she’s fallen for you. Alphys would sooner lock you in a basement than allow you to leave. Even still, there’s something under all that which suggests to you that despite their frightening behavior, they’re not really _bad._ The lab where you find yourself most of the time is full of crushing loneliness from the both of them. Under all of their roughness and dangerous habits, they really do love you.

It’s no more apparent than it is right now, with the three of you curled up on a sofa in the darkness of the lab’s TV room. You’re scrunched up on Undyne’s lap, her arms around you and chin resting on top of your head. Her eyes keep drifting closed – she’s probably going to fall asleep against you any minute now. Alphys has pressed herself up against your side, and her claws are digging against your hip. (It doesn’t hurt too much. It’s kind of like a love bite from a pet, isn’t it? She’s not trying to hurt you. This is just how she shows affection.) Some anime that you don’t recognize is playing on the screen, the sounds of a fight erupting from the speakers every once in a while.

A kiss is pressed against the side of your forehead from Undyne. It’s sloppy and lazy and her arms tighten around you, and constricting as this is, it makes you feel safe. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You barely resist the urge to chuckle at her. Even though she’s absolutely ruthless while she’s working, she seems to turn into a lovestruck teddy bear around you and Alphys. It’s pretty cute.

She moves down, nuzzling her cheek into the crook of your neck. It seems like it’s an effort to get more comfortable on her part. In preparation for sleep, you’re pretty sure. “Love you, squirt.”

This time, you let yourself chuckle. “Love you, too, Captain Undyne.”

The resulting purr she gives you vibrates through your whole body. With that, she drifts off to sleep in a matter of seconds, snoring contentedly against your neck.

“Rude.” Alphys is quick to fill the void of affection, squishing herself closer against you. If there’s a way for her to pout, she does it; although the look behind her glasses makes her look like she’s really angry. Did she actually just get jealous of Undyne hanging all over you? Boy. Undyne’s _her_ girlfriend, too, and it’s not like Alphys doesn’t know you love her. “Stop paying attention to her. She’s asleep now. It’s my turn.”

A small sigh floats off your lips as you run your hand down Alphys’ tail. It makes her shudder pleasantly in response, and she all but melts into you. You’re not that mad… how can you be? These two have your heart wrapped around their fingers. As scared as you are of them sometimes, all you really want is to make them happy. “Don’t worry, Dr. Alphys.” You’re able to crane your neck enough to plant a smooch on top of the scientist’s head. “You know I love you, too.”

Even so, she huffs despite the smile that has settled on her face. “And don’t you forget it.”


	10. Underswap!Gaster x Reader (requested by Rebecca)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a walk with Gaster through Waterfall; your parting is bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I swapped him with Monster Kid since it seems like that's the most popular choice in this AU! He's still an adult though, in case it wasn't obvious. XD)
> 
> requested by Rebecca!

Every time you’ve met him on your adventure, he’s helped you in some way. He talked to you and warned you about what Alphys could do. (Even though at the time, he was singing her praises, it caught your attention since you knew she was looking for you.) He got in the way of Alphys hurting you. His company has been sporadic, but _soothing._ Having him next to you makes you feel relaxed; like you know you can get through anything that’s thrown at you. At least, he certainly seems confident in your abilities.

Now, as you walk through Waterfall, listening to the melody from the music box that’s playing a ways back, he manages to help you again. This time it’s in the form of holding an umbrella for the both of you as he walks at your side. After putting an umbrella on the statue, you walked forward again to grab one for yourself, only to realize that there weren’t any more inside the container. It was rainy here… and it looked like you were going to have to deal with getting soaked. Then he showed up. His form is taller than you, draped in a black cloak, and to see an umbrella in his hands was surprising. He was more than insistent that you two should walk together – you were more than happy to agree.

Part of you wonders how he just manages to show up at the most convenient times. Has he been watching you? Is he just extremely interested in you and your journey? Whatever the reason, it’s nice that he seems to want to be so close. Most random monsters you bumped into either want to fight you or outright kill you.

‘You’re pretty quiet.’ You’ve gotten used to that voice he speaks in. It sounds distorted, almost as if he’s speaking in another language. The one saving grace is that he translates with a pair of magic hands, and you can understand him that way. ‘Nervous about meeting Alphys face-to-face? I would be, too!’

A faint smile plays around your lips. Until something bad actually happens, it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t know that Alphys is trying to kill you. Why burst his bubble? He looks up to her, and he doesn’t even seem to really notice that you’re human. “Something like that.”

Something slips around your shoulders… it’s cold and warm at the same time. It’s his hand, his arm, pressing you against the side of his ribs in an obvious attempt to comfort you. _You can feel his soul beating._ ‘Don’t be!! She’s so wonderful and strong… and you are, too. I’m sure she’ll like you.’

“Well, I hope you’re right.” Things fall silent for another moment before you can think of something to keep the conversation going. “Hey, um… thanks for helping me out with the umbrella. You kind of saved me from getting drenched.”

‘Oh, don’t mention it!’ He’s still holding you as close as he can, although you’re not sure now whether it’s because of the cold or whether he just wants to be near you. Maybe it’s both?

You settle into the embrace regardless. It’s a solace you’re not sure you’ll be getting much more of once you get past Alphys. … _If_ you get past Alphys. No matter how friendly a lot of monsters are once they realize you’re not going to hurt them, not many of them stop to console you if something’s wrong. Sans probably would, but… you hate to bother him. It wouldn’t be fair to make him come all the way from Snowdin just to be your shoulder to cry on. To be honest, it’s not fair to this man to serve as that for you either… you just try not to feel guilty about it since he keeps seeking you out to do just that.

“Hey…” you finally speak up as the two of you start to near a ledge. “I, um, I don’t think we were ever formally introduced or anything. What’s your name?”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he pats your shoulder gently. ‘Well, formality doesn’t suit me anyway. My name is W. D. Gaster.’

“Oh. Heh, me either. I’m (Y/N).” Your head tilts to one side. “What’s the ‘W. D.’ stand for?”

He appears to be a master of diversion, because immediately after you ask, his hand points over toward the ledge. ‘Alphys should be right past here! Why don’t I give you some help up? Oh, you must be so excited!’

Sick to your stomach, is more like it. That last thing you want to do is fight Alphys. If what everyone else says about her is true, you’re probably not going to be walking away alive. “Um… okay…”

The feeling of his hands against you, boosting you up across the ledge, makes your skin tingle. He really is something special, isn’t he? He waits until you’re standing and facing him before he speaks again. ‘When you get back, come find me! I’ll be around here somewhere. I can introduce you to my sons!’

That makes you even more nervous. But all you can do is lean down to press a soft kiss against the crack near his eye and hope that you’ll be able to keep the promise you murmur out.

At least if Alphys kills you, you’ll have kissed him once before you die.


	11. Asgore x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's fair in love and war, but the best part is what comes after the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How bout some winter fluff?? 'Tis the season!
> 
> requested by luigifan11!

What fun is the snow without a snowball fight?

That’s what you’re thinking as you start forming a stockpile of cold white projectiles on the ground next to you. The good thing is that Asgore is busy wandering around, half admiring the winter beauty and half pouting at the fact that all the plants are dead right now. (Yes, he’s a sap, but he’s _your_ sap, and it’s adorable.) Although watching him do that, clueless to your secret plan, is endearing, and you could watch him forever… there’s another type of hijinks on your mind.

As soon as his back is completely turned to you, you reel your arm back and send one of your snowballs flying at him. It hits him square between the shoulder blades – you think – and he lets out a yell that’s pretty… undignified, to say the least. A bit unmanly, to say the most. By the time he turns around to see what on Earth is going on, you’re collapsed on the ground in a fit of laughter. Not only was that satisfying, that noise he made was so _cute!_ Good God, you really are in a relationship with the most precious person in the world.

“How mature,” he chuckles when he spots you. It’s pretty clear that he isn’t really annoyed by it, aside from probably feeling a little chilly now. Even that isn’t much of a problem since he’s got fairly thick fur. “Is it really fair to fire on someone whose back is turned, dear?”

The grin on your face would definitely irritate almost anyone else. You’re lucky that it doesn’t bother Asgore in the slightest. Another snowball is picked up, and you toss it up and down a few times. “All’s fair in love and war, _honey!_ ”

“Is it, now?” Before you even know what’s hit you, something big and heavy has smacked against the tree you’re standing under for shelter – a lot of good that did you. A mound of snow falls on top of you, not quite trapping you, but it also doesn’t feel particularly pleasant either. After a few seconds your head pops up, spitting out some snow. There’s an enthusiastic grin on your face that’s only matched by the reddening of your cheeks. “Asgore!! Why, you secret cheater!”

That laugh of his really is something. It booms across the entire yard, causing a few stray birds in the tree to scatter. In an instant Asgore is by your side, gently pulling you out of the snowbank he just created. You fit entirely in his arms, even stretched out; goodness, you almost feel _dwarfed_ by him. He’s so much bigger than you. Let it never be said that he doesn’t make you feel absolutely safe. “I thought all was fair in love and war, darling.”

You let out a small huff, kicking your legs to knock the powder off your boots. “Hmph. Since when do you twist my words around back toward me?” All at once your arms are around his neck, hiking yourself upward. “… We should go inside now. Too cold.”

He laughs again, giving a nod as he heads toward the door. “So we should.”

* * *

The wind howls outside, and you pretend not to hear it while you finish up the last of your tea. The crackling of the fireplace drowns it enough for you. It’s further muffled when you curl up against Asgore, resting your head on his chest. All the ice has vanished from both of your skin and hair, leaving the two of you to be snug with each other. It’s the warmest you’ve felt in quite a while… especially with the winter being rather harsh the last few days.

You cuddle up further, wrapping your arms around his waist, although they don’t make it all the way to his back. That’s okay. It’s much comfier like this, anyway. All of this is making you feel drowsy, and for a moment you think you’re just going to fall asleep in his arms. “Asgore,” you murmur, closing your eyes to better focus on his heartbeat. “I love you.”

“Aw, gosh.” A soft kiss lands on your head, and his snout stays there as his arms envelop you. If your ear isn’t lying to you, it sounds like his heart sped up a little bit just now. Another chuckle makes his chest rumble as you relax into the vibrations. “I love you, too.”

You’re not sure when the fire goes out, but it doesn’t really matter. Asgore’s embrace and love are enough to keep you warm all night.


	12. Sans x Reader (post/during Leaderless Ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting over Papyrus' death is a bad time that seems to stretch on without end for you and Sans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Um. I can explain?? XD
> 
> Had this started for a while, but never totally finished it till today. I figured it would be a nice way to shove some real hard angst onto Sans and the reader. Because. I'm... terrible, I guess. lmao >:D
> 
>  **Warnings for frequent mentions of death; depression; the grieving process; and unhealthy coping.** Tread carefully, this one is a doozy!

Neither of you can really remember how long it’s been. Too long, and yet, not long enough.

The two of you don’t go out anymore. Everyone wonders where you are; you answer the door so that Sans won’t have to. All you ever say is that he’s not feeling well, that you’re taking care of him, and that you’re sorry they missed you at whatever function they expected to see you at. They always tell you to let him know that they hope he feels better soon. You say you will. You close the door, you sit down, and you continue cradling Sans’ skull in your lap. The same excuse is used whenever you get takeout from Grillby’s, which is only so that neither of you will starve. You can’t cook anymore. Even if you tried to, it would probably just make you both sick. Everything has lost its spark.

He tells you his eye sockets are sore, and that he doesn’t know if he actually has any tears left. You don’t know if you do, either. Except they come every day, so you must not have run out yet. Everything you do is slow, and that’s only if you bother to move much at all. Sometimes you take walks around the house by yourself, just so you get moving and keep yourself healthy. (He can’t lose you, too.) You can’t convince Sans to join you. It wouldn’t be fair to make him do that, anyway.

Today is not one of the days where you have energy.

As far as you know, Sans has been sleeping against your chest since you woke up. You can’t really remember falling asleep last night, although you do remember that you couldn’t even get Sans to put ketchup on his fries. The thought came into your head that trying to drink it yourself might be enough to tempt him, but after two swallows you just couldn’t stomach it. There’s a dull ache in your chest that you’re not fully sure is the result of heartburn, and you’re still exhausted despite sleeping for what you’re pretty sure was a full night.

Your eyes have just closed again when you’re jolted out of relaxation by a string of sniffles. When you look down, Sans is awake, his head resting on your chest and his hands pressed to his face. “Sans…?” you speak up, keeping your voice quiet so you don’t startle him. “Sorry, honey, I didn’t know you were up… are you feeling okay?” It’s a stupid question, because he hasn’t been okay since Papyrus died. All you really mean by it is to check that he hasn’t caught a cold or something. Given the sniffling, you’re not sure if he’s sick or if he’s crying.

That question is answered quickly. “I-I miss him, (Y/N)…” he manages to choke out around the deluge of tears that are streaking down his cheekbones. His soul is glowing beneath his shirt, as well as the color coming from his eyes, and it’s _purple._ He’s completely given up… or, rather, he gave up a long time ago when **they** killed Papyrus. This is why you have to force food into him, why you have to carry him into the bathroom every few days to bathe together, why you’d rather sit here and hold him tight and kiss him than go outside. You know how he feels – like his life isn’t worth anything without his brother. He was _lazy_ before, but this is… more than that. This is a depression so deep that you’ve actually never seen Sans surrender his entire life to this degree. “I miss him so much…”

Those are his feelings, and they’re valid. You still know it’s not true. You love him more than you love yourself… he’s the one who saw the beauty in you when you felt like an outcast down here. You would lay down your life for him in a heartbeat, and you know he would never ask you to do that, and _that_ is why you love him. He’s the world to you. Even though life feels hollow without Papyrus, his death doesn’t make Sans worthless. There’s nothing you can do for him, though. Even when you try to tell him how much you love him and how much he’s worth, he doesn’t believe you. That hurts maybe more than anything; even though he knows you’d never lie to him, he just can’t bring himself to believe he’s worth anything because he couldn’t stop **them** from killing Papyrus.

Your eyes are filled with tears when you see Sans’, and your heart breaks for him again. Soft lips press to the top of his skull, your fingertips brushing lightly over his clavicle. It makes him shudder enough that he looks up at you with those big, sad eyes. “I miss him, too, Sans.”

He clings to you tighter, as if you are the only thing that he has left in the world. (That assumption is probably not too far off.) His face presses against your chest and his small, thick frame is shaken with sobs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “W-Why… why did they have to do it? He didn’t do _anything_ to them! All he ever did was try to be their friend! That’s all he ever did with _anyone!_ ”

There’s nothing more you’d wish for right now than to be able to answer that question. The thought process of **that** person doesn’t make any sense to you, despite the fact that **they’re** a human, too. Why? Why would anyone kill somebody unless they absolutely had to? Why would anyone hurt _Papyrus?_ Sweet, innocent, bubbly Papyrus who wanted nothing more than to make friends with everybody? Papyrus never did anything wrong. He couldn’t do something bad if he _tried._

“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t know why they did it.” All you can really do is hold him closer, willing your soul into his so that you can comfort him in a way that words can’t. It doesn’t hurt… you can feel your soul merge with his, gently, wrapping around the edges and filling in the cracks that seem much more numerous than the last time your soul held his. The sensation is intense at the best of times, but only when either of you want it to be. Right now it’s soothing, your essences pulsating in sync with each other and your slow rhythm helping to calm him down. Even though you know it wouldn’t be right that he didn’t grieve at all, he can’t keep tearing himself to pieces over something he couldn’t control.

Your hand runs over his skull, and your soul’s aura glides over the surface of his. “Oh, honey.” A low hum leaves your chest – whether it’s part of a song or another attempt to console him, you’re not even sure. The bits of your soul that have temporarily repaired his give a gradual beat as you press a kiss to his cranium. “I love you so much, Sans.” This isn’t what Papyrus would want. Surely there has to be some way to remind Sans of that without directly saying it? It’s not good for Sans to live like this, and you’re not sure how much longer his body will be able to take it. Monsters’ souls need love, hope, and compassion to survive. You’ve been providing as much love and compassion for him as you have in your body; but Sans needs to feel those things for himself. No matter how much you show him, it’s not going to help. Even though you know he loves you, it’s been hard for him to show it in any other way except holding onto you ever since **they** killed Papyrus. Without being able to feel all the things he needs to… you don’t know if Sans can go on like this for much longer.

“I know… I know.” His head presses against your chest, phalanges grasping at the fabric of your shirt. The way he says it just sounds so… remorseful. It sounds like he thinks he’s doing something wrong, either by crying and carrying on or by not showing his love like you do. You don’t blame him for either thing. Neither of those things are anything to apologize about. A loud, ragged gasp is drawn in, and it completely shudders his bones. When you wrap your arms tighter around him, he eagerly leans into your embrace. “I-I love you, _too…!_ ” It’s the first time he’s said it in _days._ Part of you is happy, because you missed that, because hearing those words repeated back to you makes it feel almost like maybe things will go back to normal eventually. (Right after that hope crosses your mind, you feel terrible. Papyrus is gone. The world _should_ be different when somebody dies.) The other part of you, however, feels your soul clench up on his in anguish when you hear the way he says it. He has to force it out, with the last words coming out in a high-pitched, breathless wheeze. It’s heartrendingly clear that he loves you with all his heart, and he’s just desperate not to lose you, too. His form curls against you, pressing his patellas into your thighs. “(Y/N)… w… what are we gonna _do…?_ ”

Just when you thought your heart couldn’t possibly break into any more pieces. You keep stroking at his skull thoughtfully, your soul thrumming softly against his so he knows you’re not ignoring his question. Quite honestly, your world is bleak without Papyrus. Both yours and Sans’. It hurts. It hurts all the time, when you look in the fridge and don’t see his leftover spaghetti, when you go talk to Undyne and he’s not there training, when you flinch after dropping something and remember he’s not here to scold you about picking it up. Papyrus was the kind of friend you’d always wanted, that everyone needed. His unconditional belief and support in everyone around him was something that always brightened up anywhere he went. He wasn’t just your friend – with how much you loved Sans and how close you had been to Papyrus, he was _your brother, too._ Someone as amazing, dedicated, and kind as Papyrus being dead feels like all the energy in the Underground has been sucked away. If he couldn’t stop **them… they** must be completely heartless. Hadn’t they even felt the least bit bad about hurting him…?

It can’t go on like this, though. Even though you both have to keep grieving, you also can’t spend the rest of your lives wallowing on the couch. That isn’t what Papyrus would have wanted. Your lips quirk up faintly as you think about how much of a tantrum he would throw if the two of you did that.

“Hey.” A tender kiss is ghosted over his teeth once you draw him away from your chest. As you look in his eye sockets, the lights inside are dim, flickering, but still there. At least he’s meeting your eyes, even if there are still tears bubbling over the edges of his eye sockets. “We’re going to live life. We’re going to live for Papyrus. We’re going to live like he would have, and like he would have wanted us to. We’re going to make it _count._ ”

His eyes widen at your certainty and determination. Even though he knew you had it in you… it put him in awe to see you taking the reins and defending his brother. Pride and guilt and grief all swirled and swelled in his chest until he was afraid he’d start crying again. “(Y/N)…” His face ducked down against his arm, wrist bones scrubbing at the tears that were trying to escape. “Y… You really m-mean that, babe…?”

You nod, shifting yourself so that you can stand up while still holding him as tightly as you’re able. Much as you know he can walk on his own, and this might look odd, it’s best for the two of you to be as close as possible right now. “How about… we go change clothes… and go for a walk outside? It doesn’t have to be a long one.” You kiss him again and start walking to the bedroom. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you out and about.”

“I…” His voice wavers, and the look on his face lets you know that he’s unsure of whether or not he can do it. After a few seconds, he goes slightly limp in your arms with a resigned sort of sigh. “… Okay, baby.”

* * *

It’s a beautiful day outside.

Wind is blowing.

Snow is falling.

You can almost feel Papyrus’ spirit in the air.

It’s in the faces of your friends; it’s in the way snowflakes melt into your eyelashes and Sans’ bones.

On days like these… the strength and love you share makes living without your brother seem a bit more bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick footnote!
> 
> Reader letting their soul 'merge' with Sans' isn't soul sex in this context. Soul contact in my headcanon isn't inherently sexual - kind of like with humans, every display of nudity isn't sexual, you feel?
> 
> In this context, touching or merging souls is a method of comfort and intimacy without being sexual. <3


	13. Underswap!Napstaton x Reader (requested by Random Person)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napstaton decides they need a heart-to-heart with you, and it turns out, it's just what you needed, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by Random Person!
> 
> (I had a lot of fun with this one omg. Napstaton/Napstabot is one of my faves to write.)

The way their arms encircle your waist and spin you around is enough to startle you.

When was the last time that Napstaton did something like this with you? It’s… it’s been such a long time. You can remember for the first few weeks after they got their newly upgraded body, this kind of thing wouldn’t be rare. They would hold you and pick you up and kiss you and touch you at every chance they got. _“You’re so **soft!** ”_ their voice still rings in your head. Their laughter would become glitched with how happy they were to be able to show you affection, and they just couldn’t keep their hands off you.

You can’t remember exactly when that changed, but it did. Even though you were important to them, Napstaton had gotten so completely focused on their dream of making it big. You were always high on their list of priorities… it just seemed that other things kept getting in the way. For a long time, the shiny novelty of their EX body had worn off, and lately you had found yourself starved of them.

So what’s all this about?

Before you can try to think about it much, your face is peppered with an onslaught of small kisses. Each one holds the warmth of their lips and the smoothness of the metal that comprises them. In between is their giggling, accompanied by their arms squeezing you closer. “ _Babe!_ ” One long kiss lingers on your lips – they taste like oil and sugar. It’s the taste of them, and it’s something you’ve missed so much. When they draw away, their electric blue optics are staring right into yours. The look in those eyes is probably the most intense you’ve ever seen from them. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God, babe. _Babe._ ” They can’t seem to help themselves, and press another kiss to your lips. This time when they break the contact, you’re gasping for air and you can hear their fans going a mile a minute. “Oh, my God…” Tears have started to pool at the bottoms of their eyes, and their forehead falls against yours with a gentle _thunk._ “Oh, my God, I love you. I… I mean… you know – you know that, right? You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Napsta… blook…” you pant, briefly mixing up their old name with their new one. It doesn’t bother them, though; the two of you agreed that you can use it occasionally, as long as it’s just in private. (You’ve gotten the sense that even then, they only allow you to use it because they like the way it sounds coming from you.) You let yourself slump against their chest, your arms gently snaking around their waist. “Babe… of course I know that. And I love you, too…” Your stomach presses against the part of the belt that contains their soul as you lean against them. How long has it been since you’ve been together like this…? You squirm for a second, rearranging yourself so that you can run your fingers through their hair. Where… where is the cap they usually wear? It hits you suddenly that their hat is nowhere to be found. Your hands are only touching their fine silver hair. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

As much as you appreciate the sudden attention, it’s come out of nowhere. Since they started concentrating on their big dream, things like this have become less frequent… and it’s a bit out of character for them nowadays. It worries you to think that maybe something happened to one of their cousins, and… God. All those thoughts are just unbearable.

They sweep you into their arms, pecking your cheek again. It feels like they just can’t get enough of being against you. “Yeah, something did! I… I’ve been… such a jerk. Like. _God!_ I’m looking back at everything and I’m just… I’m such an idiot.” Another kiss is left on your neck, then your shoulder, and you can see the tears from before starting to slide out. Their voicebox sputters, cycling through the same beginning of a word a few times before they can continue. “That human… they stopped me. We were on my show… it was supposed to be the last episode…” They stumble forward, collapsing onto the sofa with you still in their arms. Despite the tears, they start to laugh a little, which makes their chest vibrate against the side of your head. “Oh, my God, I’ve just been so _stupid,_ you know? Happsta called in… they sounded so sad that I was going to be leaving… and then a ton of other monsters… and I just… I’ve been so selfish. I forgot how to be a good friend, and… and how to give the people I love the attention they deserve…” The grip they’ve got on you gets even tighter, if that’s possible. “… I was afraid… it was gonna make you hate me.”

You hold them close, your legs tucking up underneath theirs. If Happstablook called them on their show, followed by a lot of other viewers… oh, wow. It must have hit Napstaton pretty hard to see just how many people were going to miss them if they left for the surface. Not to mention, hearing it specifically from their cousin seems to have opened their eyes to how much they’ve just kind of started taking things for granted. You’re glad that something like this happened, but… it won’t do to have them beating themselves up. No matter _what_ Napstaton does or how much they change, there’s no way you could ever hate them. “Sweetie…” It’s your turn to start lavishing them with attention, assaulting their cheeks and forehead and lips with a quick, passionate burst of kisses. “Listen. I could never, _ever_ hate you, baby. You’re my radical little botfriend, and I love you very much. Nothing is ever going to change that, I promise.” You nuzzle your nose against theirs, and the luminescent blue blush that dusts over their cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “You just let fame go to your head. It was a mistake, and everybody makes mistakes. The good news is that this one isn’t permanent. And realizing that it happened…” One more kiss pressed to their lips. “… Means you can change again.”

The look on their face as it crumples into happy tears, followed by relieved laughter, almost brings you to tears yourself. Were they really that worried that you secretly didn’t love them anymore? “Oh, my God, babe!” They lean back and let out a sigh, which sounds like the weight of the world has been released from inside them. When you recline against them, their arms shift to rest one hand on the small of your back. It feels like it’s been forever since they did little romantic gestures like that; the touch of their fingertips tingles on your skin through the fabric of your clothes. “… I love you so much. You’re, just… _wow._ You’re wow,” they chuckle, the blush flaring up again as they realize that they’ve kind of tripped over their words. Their eyes close and they return the nuzzle you gave them a moment ago. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

“I dunno,” you smile as you relax on top of them. When you do, their soul is beating slowly against your abdomen, and it feels like a rhythm of love. “How did _I?_ ” You let yourself bask in the glow of their epiphany for a few minutes… it’s nice that they want to try to be more like they used to be. Their wonder and happiness at how much they love and are loved are things that you’ve missed terribly. To see them like that again, wide-eyed and full of enthusiasm, is probably the best thing you could ask for. “Mm. We should go visit Happ. I bet they’d be glad to see you.”

A hum of agreement leaves Napstaton, their fingers tangling contentedly in your hair. “Yeah, we should.” Suddenly, they press another kiss to your forehead, then their lips trail down your nose, finally ending on your lips. “Not tonight, though.” In their embrace, you feel safe and loved, and you didn’t know just how much you missed it until you have the old Napstaton back again. “Tonight… it’s just us.”


End file.
